Gameboard: D-Cyber
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [D-Cyber; this world is a game! AU] It's a game with two Game Masters, two sides. But when the pieces have a mind of their own and rules are circumvented, things get complicated. Hikaru is not supposed to interfere but he's the loophole the Royal Knights exploit. Or so they think. In fact, the loophole has been exploited by somebody else.


**A/N** : Written for:

Diversity Writing Challenge, k9 – a multichapter with multiple arcs  
Epic Masterclass Challenge, #4 – the AU space (this world is a game! AU)  
AU Set Boot Camp, #33 – there is a god controlling everything! AU (eg. one/two player game where the rest are pieces, fate being all controlling etc.) (this world is a game! AU is a subset of this)

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 **Gameboard: D-Cyber**

Vs. MetalPhantomon, Game 1  
 _First Prelude_

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The rules usually worked to their advantage, but now it was a hindrance.

"One avatar per player". And that worked because there were three of them and generally only one in opposition, so that gave them the numbers advantage.

Circumvented by brainwashing, because MetalPhantomon had chosen, in a risky but evidently well-played manouvre, to put himself on the board in his opening move. And he was one of the few digimon who could manipulate the mind, as it was.

And they could have countered that with the "need for representation on both sides" rule, because only two of the three were brainwashed. The third still had her own mind - and a lot of good that did her, bound up like she was.

'We need another piece to free them,' Magnamon grumbled. They did not have a fourth piece to put on the board.

'That's a blatant breaking of the rules,' Dukemon countered, 'and by our own Master's laws, we are not allowed.'

'And so MetalPhantomon has defeated us after only the first move?' Magnamon exclaimed. 'I simply cannot accept our Master would have left such a gaping flaw in Her defence -'

For every battle they fought was to their victory, and it had been two hundred years since their last sacrifice. MetalPhantomon could not have fallen onto the map to defeat them so thoroughly. The very thought was inconceivable - and yet they were struggling already.

'Perhaps She has no,' Omegamon mused aloud. 'We must think. Find the loopholes our enemies have exploited thus far, and use them ourselves.'

And, seated at the round table, they thought.

'It is against the rules for our pieces to be claimed by the opposition,' Omegamon tried.

'But he has not claimed them,' countered Dukemon, 'simply manipulated them to his advantage.'

'Simply,' Magnamon snorted. 'Must you always play the Devil's Advocate, Duke?'

'Someone must,' Dukemon replied, unperturbed. 'Otherwise, we could not find the best course of action for every turn.'

'One day, there may come a time when we find ourselves in checkmate regardless of our efforts,' Omegamon sighed, 'but games such as these are not designed to be lost in the opening move. There must be something we can do.'

They fell silent again, searching their long memories for a move they could play – beyond passing it over completely and allowing the end to hasten upon them.

'Three pieces,' Omegamon repeated aloud, when the silence of their current stalemate became unbearable. 'Two of them are mentally estranged, and the last physically restrained. We can move none ourselves –'

'That's it!' Magnamon's clapped his gauntleted hands together. 'We cannot legally make a move. That's a clause in its own.'

'It is,' Dukemon said, with a hint of wonder in his voice. 'The rules demand that all players are, until the endgame, able to make a move regardless of whether or not they choose to. The definition of an endgame can be argued…'

'But even the least generous definition must allow three turns,' Omegamon agreed. 'One for the opening, one for the climax and one for the conclusion. And this is the second turn. It is not allowed for there to be no moves available to us. The other rules loosen. So which ones are our options?'

'Manipulating a piece of the enemy, or else placing a new piece on the board,' Dukemon said, after a moment's thought. 'The first is impossible since the only piece MetalPhantomon has played is himself, and the neutral pieces have not yet had the chance to be put into the fray.'

'And therefore we must add a piece,' said Magnamon. 'Our enemies have paid no price for such a manoeuvre, but what about us? And what pieces are available to us? Surely we cannot throw just anything in. Our enemies –'

'Of course we cannot,' Dukemon cut in. 'As for us, we have nine dead companions we can call upon. If there is a price to pay for this intervention, this will warrant the least.'

'There's no way of knowing until we try,' Omegamon admitted. 'She is stern in enforcing her rules, but we are her representatives in the game. She may be merciful to us.'

'Or she may be waiting for our eventual defeat,' countered Dukemon, playing the Devil's Advocate again. 'It's over two hundred years in the making.'

They all closed their eyes to that. Two hundred years ago. The great war that lost them nine Knights, and much of the world. The start of their three person team upholding the board. The victories that amounted only to a prolonged world and an inevitable new match, new opponent, new enemy, thereafter.

'We have dawdled enough,' said Magnamon, snapping his eyes open again. 'Let us choose a representative fitting for one of our departed brethren. It's time for him to launch a rescue.'


End file.
